


Lungs of Gold and a Heart of Smoke

by edgycinnamoncoconut



Category: Slaughterhouse Rulez (2018)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Drug Use, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Past Drug Use, Recreational Drug Use, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-09-05 01:23:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16800889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edgycinnamoncoconut/pseuds/edgycinnamoncoconut
Summary: It's been five years since they blew up their boarding school, and they've all moved on with their lives.Well. Clemency has. Don's trying. Will hasn't.Don's desperately trying to ignore the feelings that tell him he's bored and unhappy. He's trying to move on, and focus on his new life with Clemsie.He definitely, most certainly, 100% does not miss Willoughby Blake.So when Will turns up on Don's doorstep and asks for help in becoming sober, Don allows him in and enters into a battle with his sense of duty and commitment to Clemsie and his powerful feelings for Will as he does his best to save the broken boy in front of him, regardless of the cost.





	Lungs of Gold and a Heart of Smoke

**Author's Note:**

> The credit for the title goes to the wonderful Ali, who is part of the best SR chat that exists, y'all. Enjoy!

It wasn't that he was bored, exactly. 

No, he didn't miss the boarding school with a stick so far up it's arse Don was surprised it didn't choke on it. 

He didn't miss the rush of adrenaline, the thrill of it all. He didn't miss fighting for his life, the five weeks of sheer terror he spent there. Load of shit. He did, and he couldn't explain it. Clemsie didn't know- she'd think he was crazy, which at times Don thought himself. 

No, he focused on his new life with Clemsie, his classes at university in preparation for his accounting career- Clemsie said it was a 'safe, practical' job which Don outwardly agreed with but personally thought was a load of bollocks- and tried to get on with life. 

Don definitely didn't miss making sure the black-haired boy with the broken blue eyes hadn't topped himself, didn't miss running after him or anything like that. No, he most definitely did not miss Willoughby Blake, who he hadn't heard from in six months. 

For all he knew, Will could have actually killed himself. 

The thought kept Don awake at night. 

It had been a normal evening. They'd come home, asked trivial questions about each other's day that neither of them really cared about the answers to over dinner, and then gone to bed and lied awake next to each other. 

So it was a welcome relief for Don when there came a pounding on the door at 3AM. 

"What's going on?" Clemsie called. "If it's a burglar, Don, tell them to fuck off and come back in the morning." 

"I really don't think that's how it works-" Don broke off as he opened the door. 

There was silence until-

"I am terribly sorry to interrupt your perfect little life." Will announced, not sounding sorry about it in the slightest. 

"I- well, not exactly." Don spluttered. "What the fuck are you doing here, Will? Why the months of silence? And why in the middle of the night? I thought you were dead!" 

"I know. But I need your help." 

"With fucking what-" 

"Don." Will's voice cracked. 

Don noticed his bloodshot eyes, and the distinct scent of stale alcohol.  
Will looked straight at Don, and cleared his throat. His eyes were watering. "I really need your help, Don. Please." 

Shit. He must be really have been in trouble. 

"Why? Blow up any schools lately?" 

"Don't be a prick." 

"You deserve it. You let me think you were dead for months, let me lie awake at night worrying about you." 

Will raised an eyebrow. "I didn't realise I was worthy of such an honour." 

"You're a twat."

"I'm aware." Will's voice was more confident now, with traces of the posh, boarding school accent he'd never been able to get rid of entirely. 

Don looked at Will. Properly. 

It may have been five years later, but Will hadn't really changed. Tall and lanky with messy dark hair and with the same pretentious, confident yet uncomfortable and unsure manner about him. 

He was still an ungraceful git, too. 

"So, how about it?" Will's voice wavered. "Will you help me?" 

He was nervous. Will had always loathed asking for help, no matter what. Always preferring to work in hate and silence. Don knew what it must have cost him to ask for help, and wondered how bad things must have gotten in order for Will of all people to admit defeat. 

"Come on in, you git." Don held the door open. 

Will tilted his chin and marched in. "It's bloody freezing out there at this time of the morning, you know." 

"No, I don't know." Don responded, lobbing a blanket at Will and directing him to the couch. "Because I'm not in the habit of being outside at this time of night." 

"You really should be. Remember our midnight walks back at school?" 

"Remember when we nearly died at school?" Don countered, and Will smirked. 

"Don't tell me you didn't enjoy it, Wallace."

Don smiled before catching himself. "We can catch up in the morning--"

"It is morning." 

Don threw a blanket at Will's head. "Kip on the sofa." 

Will hesitated, his eyes darting around the room. "Are you sure it's okay? What about Clemency?" 

"I'll deal with Clemsie. Go to sleep." 

Will nodded uncertainly. "Okay." 

"Will, I missed-" 

Don was cut off by a large snore; Will had curled up on the couch and fallen asleep. 

Well, curled up- his legs stuck out from the end of the couch. 

Don smiled. Will was back. 

Just as he had that thought, Clemsie came charging out of the bedroom. 

"What the bloody hell is going on-" 

Don blocked Clemsie before she could storm into the living room. 

"Hey, hey, hey. It's alright, Clems. It's just Will, he needs our help." 

"Unless he's been stabbed, I do not give a fuck." 

"Don't give him ideas." Don muttered. "Anyway, no. I don't know exactly what's wrong, but I couldn't say no to him."

"You never could."

"Don't be like that." 

Clemsie sighed. "I just--God, I can't be assed with this right now. Can we deal with this in the morning?" 

"Sure. None of us are going anywhere." 

Don made a move to return to their bedroom, but accidentally knocked a frame down. 

In the fumble that ensued, Don didn't hear Clemsie's next words. 

"Least of all Willoughby fucking Blake."


End file.
